40 days and 40 nights
by fanficismysecretobsession
Summary: Title taken from film of the same name, futurefic. Logan's love life is, frankly, pretty crap. So he has decided to give up anything sexual for Lent to get him out of his funk. Simple? Not with ex-girlfriend Veronica Mars back in the picture.
1. Days 1 and 2

A/N: So, I tried writing something else, but it wasn't working for me, so I'm back to Veronica Mars. I'm happy, it works for me, and I had an idea based on the film 40 Days and 40 Nights. Hilarious, may I say, even though I only really saw the middle bit. Anyway, I hope you guys like my new idea. Veronica stayed with the FBI after her internship, and Logan and Parker stayed together. I think that's all you need to know, so just remember that I don't own anything in this story, except maybe a few plot twists, and enjoy!

_**Day 1**_

"Dude, you're giving up what?" My best friend, Dick Casablancas asks me, staring incredulously.

I get that my plan is strange to him, after all, Dick has never understood the idea of gaining perspective, or the notion of learning by deprivation. I've never really seen the point of it up till now, either, but it seems like the perfect idea, after what happened to me yesterday.

"_Logan, we need to talk." Parker says to me, sympathy plastered onto every inch of her face. I know where this is going. The words 'we need to talk' never lead to proclamations of undying love, or amazing sex. They always lead to a dumping – I should know, I've heard it several times now. "We had a really great time, and I really enjoyed spending time with you." Don't get me wrong, I don't love Parker, and I don't think I ever will, but it always sucks to get dumped. "You know I went back home last week, for my mom's birthday?" It appears that some answer is required of me. I nod, understandingly. "Well, I ran into my ex – Lucas – and we talked, and we've decided to get back together. He's even moving down from Denver to be near me."_

"_Oh, well, I understand. You're right, we had a good run, but I'm glad you're gonna be happy." I tell her, as she pats my hand and leave. And I mean it. I want her to be happy, because she's a nice girl, but it sucks being left on my own again._

So why, then, would I want to do what I'm planning on doing? I don't like being alone, and yet I want to inflict loneliness upon myself. Frankly, it makes sense to me. I've had five girlfriends in my twenty years – although I've fucked plenty more. First there was Lilly Kane; my first love, my first time, sexy and daring, the perfect girl. Except for the fact that she slept around more than anyone I have ever met, and ended up being murdered by my father, who by the way she was sleeping with. Not the greatest start to my dating career. Then there was Kaitlin Ford, the 09er barbie who was nothing more than a good fuck. But, damn it all, she was cheating on me too – with some dirt poor biker who helped her commit fraud with my credit card details. That kind of thing really doesn't do wonders to a guy's self esteem. Then there was Veronica. Where to start? Gorgeous, witty, about as messed up as I am, and sharing a complicated history with me, we've got together at least three times. The first time it was more about comfort – sneaking around and secrets – and she left me because, to be honest, I went a bit psycho. I don't even really know why she dumped me the other times, but that's not important really. The point is, that she is now in Virginia; she left me like all the others. After my first liason with Veronica there was Hannah. Sweet, innocent Hannah, who was just a means to an ends; a way to blackmail her father into not testifying against me. It was my fault, but she still left – sent away to boarding school, away from bad guys like me. And then there was Parker, and look where that's got me.

So I figure the only solution to working out what about me repels women is cutting out the woman part. Giving myself a real introspective scrutiny, and the only way I can concentrate enough to do that is by

"Giving up sex." I tell him. He just gapes, open mouthed.

"Why the fuck would you want to do that, dude?" He's really not gonna understand, so I don't see the point in trying to explain. "You know what, don't tell me, man, I really don't wanna hear you go all girly about how nobody loves you and blah blah blah." Fair enough, I see his point. If I was him I wouldn't give a shit either. "I just have one question; how long have you been Christian for?"

"I've been Christian since I was born, idiot, I just don't practise. You don't have to be religious to use Lent to purge yourself of whatever. 40 days without sex, conveniently situated during Lent, so that I can justify it. It's just what I need."

At least I think it is.

I slump down into my seat, the laughter of my friends still echoing in my ears. It doesn't show any signs of stopping, but maybe that's because said friends – Cindy 'Mac' Mackenzie, Wallace Fennel, the aforementioned Dick Casablancas and Steve Walker – are sitting on both sides of me, killing themselves laughing. Dick happened to mention to them what I was giving up for Lent while we were on our way to the pointlessly compulsory English Lit lecture.

Don't get me wrong, these guys are great friends, especially Dick, Mac and Wallace, but they aren't exactly supportive. I met Dick when I moved to Neptune. At the time he was a scrawny, shy little kid, but Lilly and I moulded him into the confident, drunken, flirt that he is today. Mac and Wallace are Veronica's best friends, but we've gotten really close since she ran away to Virginia. Then there's Steve. He's a dude I met in the very lecture I'm in right now, and only because he'd heard that I was selling cheat sheets for the midterms. I wasn't, but it turned out that he was a really cool guy, and we're all pretty close now.

It doesn't stop them all being fucking annoying.

"Seriously Logan, no offence, but you're practically a nympho!" Mac giggles, calming down slightly.

"Hey! I resent that. I'm anything but a nympho. The nearest thing to a nympho in this entire room is Dick." I retort, annoyed by her accusation. Sex isn't always the first thing on my mind, only sometimes – unlike Dick who is only ever thinking about sex and booze. I'm really not sure how he managed to pass his first year here at Hearst.

"Sorry, Logan, but we all know that you're never gonna make it to Good Friday." Wallace points out. Damn him, he has a point. "The only time I've known you to go without sex when you could be having it is summer of Junior year, when you and Veronica were seeing eachother." Right again. Crap, when has Wallace got this intelligent.

"Yeah, well, I managed then and I'll manage now. I have to, for my sanity." I tell him, defiantly. They all start laughing again.

"Dude, you should get laid regularly for your sanity, not give up everything sex-related." Dick informs me, as if I'm some kind of imbecile. You know something is seriously up with your sanity when Dick Casablancas is giving you patronising advice.

"Wait, so this isn't just sex, this is like, masturbating too?" Steve asks, incredulously. "Man, what have you got yourself into?"

"No sex, no jerking off, no kissing, no making out. Absolutely nothing to satisfy the sexual cravings." I reel off. I've thought this through thoroughly.

"Never gonna happen, Logan, sorry." Mac tells me, patting my arm comfortingly. She and Wallace exchange significant looks, and I realise that they're hiding something from me.

Our lecuturer finally enters – ten minutes late, may I add – and begins talking about the symbolism used in Thomas Hardy's Wessex Tales. Thrilling. To my right, I see Mac lean towards Wallace and strain to catch her words.

"Do you think we should tell Logan that she's coming back?" She whispers.

"Nah, he doesn't need more stress. Maybe he won't even see her much." Wallace mutters back.

"Are you stupid? She's our best friend, he's one of our really good friends. They share most of their friends, actually, and she's gonna have to attend this stupid lecture, too." She snaps.

I leave them to their quiet bickering. I know who they're talking about; it's obvious really. Veronica Mars. Love of my life. Well, she was before she left anyway. I don't really know what I feel about her now. It doesn't stop her return being something very bittersweet. She's a great girl, and I've missed her company, apart from anything. I also want to know why the hell she didn't come back at the end of summer vacation. I've been wandering about that for about nearly seven months. But it sucks, because she is the one girl guaranteed to make keeping this Lent thing almost completely impossible. I mean come on, I got a hard on watching her in Calculus once, and she wasn't even stretching or pushing out her chest or anything. She'll be the death of me and my abstinence.

This is going to be even harder than I expected.

Day 3

I manage three sexless days before I run into her. I hadn't realised that she'd be coming back so soon, but then again, as my mother always said, you don't get the full facts when you eavesdrop. So I'm unprepared for the meeting. I'd thought that I would be able to think of what to say, and maybe meet her somewhere neutral. But no, I run into her at the laundrette.

I'm reaching behind the washer for my secret stash of fabric softener when I hear her familiarly dry voice.

"You know, I don't think that's how you're supposed to use a washing machine. The clothes usually go in the front bit." I turn slowly, and am slightly gratified to see shock registering in her eyes. "Well, well, Logan Echolls. This is the last place I expected to see you."

I can't blame her for her surprise. Eight months ago, the last time I saw her, I wouldn't have been caught dead in a laundrette, but I've changed quite a lot since then. For a start, Dick and I finally moved out of the Neptune Grande Hotel, and into a crummy apartment on the beach in the 02 zip. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that the apartment is shit, only fit for sleeping and occasionally eating in. We don't have a shower (I shower at Wallace's dorm, even though it means having to see that douchebag Piz when I go there) let alone a washer and dryer. Hence the weekly trip to Spin Cycles, and the chance encounter with my ex.

I realise that I haven't actually spoken yet, and that Veronica has been staring quizically at me for several minutes. "Yeah, well, uh, gotta get the washing done, eh?" It's possibly the least smooth line I've ever come up with. It's worse than the staple of 'come here often?'. "Laundry doesn't do itself."

"Wow, you really have grown up." She comments, incredulously. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I grew up years ago; way before my time. "Last time I saw you you would have stuck to the story that your clothes miraculously cleaned themselves when you weren't looking."

It's true, I told her that once, in jest, and she laughed appropriately, but I hadn't thought that she'd remember it. It just goes to show how unpredictable she is; recalling what she is meant to forget and forgetting the things that I think are important. I'd bet any kind of money that she can't remember the details of the first time we met – which I can recall right down to the jeans I was wearing – but ask her what song I had on repeat in a certain week in that first summer together, and she'd probably be able to tell you.

"Well. Things are different now. It's all very well to belive in fairy stories when.." I trail off, uncomfortable at the way she is scrutinising me. "Anyway, I have a, uh, coloured wash to, uh, do."

Her hip is jutting out, her hand resting on it, while the other holds a sack, obviously holding her clothes. Her lips are pouting slightly, and her eyes are amused. Simple things, normal things – just like in that calculas class – and already I can feel my pants tightening. Shit, three days and I've already run into my toughest obstacle. She slings the bag over her shoulder – oh God, that soft shoulder – and turns towards the door. Guess she'd done her laundry by the time I got in.

"It's a shame that with maturity comes a loss of the ability to speak." She comments, her face drawn long in mock regret. "Same time next week, Logan? Maybe we can continue our rivetting conversation."

She saunters out of the laundrette, turning to wave at me through the glass window before she disappears off.

Could my life get anymore troublesome? Yes, it probably could.


	2. Days 4 6

A/N: Wow, it's been a really long wait, and I've written way more than I thought I was going to. Guess that explains the delay, eh? I hope you guys like it – I've had some great feedback for this fic. I own nothing – not Veronica Mars, not 40 Days and 40 Nights, and not Nintendo. Enjoy. Day 4

The next time I see her is in that damned compulsory Lit class. She's sitting with Mac and Wallace, in the seat next to my usual one. Damn, I can't sit somewhere else without making all of my friends suspicious, which means that I'm stuck sitting next to the walking orgasm-inducer. Crap.

Steve, who is walking with me, notices my change in manner.

"What's wrong, dude?" He asks, but doesn't even wait for a reply before exclaiming, "Who is that smoking babe in the seat next to yours?"

"That would be the reason for my uncomfortableness." I say. He opens his mouth to correct me. "I know that 'uncomfortableness' isn't a word, Mr English-student, it just happens to describe what I'm feeling right now." He looks at me quizically. Steve is a man of few words, but he always gets his point across. "That, my friend, is Veronica Mars. My several times over ex. And Wallace and Mac's best friend. And my first girlfriend's best friend. And my best friend's ex girlfriend."

"Holy crap that's a brainteaser. How do you get your head around all the labels?" He laughs, before we sit down in our usual seats. Me next to Veronica. "Hi, I hear you're a friend of Logan, Mac and Wallace's." He smiles his 'I'm so charming don't you just love me' smile at her, and extends a hand over me. She smiles and shakes his hand, but doesn't give him the once-over that I've learnt to recognise as an indicator of whether or not she thinks a guy is attractive. At least Steve can't get off with her either. "I'm Steve. The cool new guy."

"Veronica. The cool old guy." She replies, as Mac whispers something in her ear. "Shut up Mac, it's very witty actually."

"I'll second that." Oh God, Steve is in full on flirt mode. I feel kinda bad, because he really doesn't know that Veronica isn't flirting back, just being herself, but I can't help but find it somewhat amusing. This will be the first girl to turn down Steve and his dashing good looks. "So, where have you been hiding since I got here?"

"Virginia. Which reminds me, there's some stuff that I brought back with me that I really can't let my dad see. Can I leave at with one of you?" Her question apparently ecompasses me too, as she shoots me an expectant glance. Great. She's everywhere – even at my laundrette – and now she wants to invade my home too. But I can't say no to her – that's always been my problem.

"Dick and I probably have space." I volunteer, when it seems that no one else will.

"Ah he speaks!" She laughs. "And in full sentences, too. It's just a couple of boxes – some paperwork, and, uh, some non-work stuff that I don't want him to get his hands on." She tells me.

"That's cool, we have the space. Neither of us are big on the family mementos." I reply, astounded at my ability to talk to her rationally.

"Unsurprisingly." She comments, before turning to Wallace to take a look at his notes from last lecture.

The lecturer enters – late as usual – and I settle down to what will hopefully be an hour of sleep and rest while he talks about Jane Austen and her contributions to literature. Unfortunately, Veronica isn't planning on sleeping, she's planning on paying attention, and her movements keep catching my eye.

She brushes her hair behind her ears. My pants tighten slightly. She crosses one leg over the other. My pants tighten lots. She smiles at one of the lecturer's witticisms. My heart jolts. Shit. This isn't just about sex deprivation anymore, this is about real feelings. I can't believe that I have feelings for her! This is about the worst thing that could possibly happen. Now I not only have to battle being turned on all the time – not just from Ronnie, from any girl wearing a short skirt and a suggestive smile – I now have to battle my returning (or maybe they never left) feelings for Veronica. How annoying.

I see her again later. This is getting ridiculous. We're not even on the same course and yet I see her everywhere. It probably has something to do with the fact that I effectively borrowed her friends while she was away. I'm coming out of the shower at Wallace's dorm and I spot her lounging on his bed.

"So anyway, I just decided that enough was enough. Virginia's community colleges really aren't that awesome." She's telling him. "And the weather sucks." She spots me and winks. "Great outfit, Logan." I'm wearing a towel, looking for my razor. "Oh, yeah, and the FBI pays crap."

"That's a really interesting tidbit." I tell her, sarcastically. She just smirks. "That all you've got, Mars? I'm disappointed. I was expecting at least a retort about how I ought to fill my brain with something, even if it is a useless fact about FBI wages. Then I'd reply with something sarcastic like, why would I want to worry myself about wages when I don't need to work? And so on, and so forth."

To my great surprise she bursts out laughing. We chat for a few minutes, while I shave, and then I come back into the room for a real conversation.

"So why'd you come back?" I ask her the question that's been weighing on my mind since I heard her talking about Virginia.

"I got bored, basically. Every case is the same out there; there's an obvious bad guy – we track him, we get solid evidence on him and then we arrest him. The Feds do _everything _by the book and its just so dull! So I came back here, where I can break rules and be with my friends and have fun. Oh, and here no one expects me to get them coffee." She tells me, grinning as she speaks.

We're pretty much sharing a moment, I've certainly stopped thinking about the fact that Wallace is sitting in the room at his laptop. But then Piz struts in. I take it from the sudden tension in the room that he and Veronica haven't run into eachother till now. Wow. Awkward.

"Hello, Veronica." He says, shortly.

"Hey, Piz." She replies, softly. "How are you?" Oh crap, does she still care about him? I heard she was the one who did the dumping, but she dumped me and still loved me several times. I don't know what I'll do if it turns out she has a thing for him and they get back together.

"Well, I was doing great, but now I think I'll just go find somewhere else to hang out, since my room has apparently become a breeding ground for people I dislike." He snaps. Dude, that was really harsh. Veronica flinches slightly at his tone, but doesn't attempt to say anything more and scowls at him as he leaves. Thank God, she doesn't love him.

"Well, that was…less than comfortable." I murmur into the tense silence. Veronica cracks a smile, and I'm practically glowing with the achievement of dissipating the tension.

"Being friends with you guys is like living in a soap opera." Wallace mutters, causing Veronica to burst out laughing. "I said it once, and I'll say it again; far more trouble than it's worth."

"Aaw, come off it, Fennel, you love us really." I whine, giving him my famed puppy dog eyes. The very same eyes that got tonnes of women to sleep with me. Crap. I'd managed to go a whole five minutes without thinking of sex, and here it is – back in my mind again. Three days, and only five minutes let up. Thirtysix left and by God it's gonna be impossible.

"So can I come by a bit later to drop off my contraband?" She asks. Oh God, just watching those lips, this is fucking impossible. "Uh, Logan? Hello?" I zone back into reality to find her waving a hand in front of my face, looking amused.

"Sorry, just drifted off a bit there." I glance down at my pants to check that I'm not being too obvious, and hear Wallace stifle a laugh behind me.

Veronica looks at us each in turn then shakes her head, muttering, "You guys are weird." She walks out of the dorm without a second look.

She must have got my address off Wallace, because she comes by later without any warning. I'm learning to hate these surprise visits from the small blonde, because I can't prepare myself for her unbearable hotness. I think that if I at least had some kind of time to stop my body from reacting so much everytime I see her, these confrontations would be way easier.

But she always bloody sneaks up on me. Like now, on my doorstep. Okay, so I was obviously expecting to see _someone_ standing outside my door when I went to answer the doorbell, but not her. She's smirking at me, and I realise that I've once again allowed several minutes to pass in silence.

"Shall I take one of those for you?" There are three boxes at her feet, and one in her hands.

"Strong guy like you could handle two at once, I reckon." She tells me, walking past me and into the apartment. "Nice place you got here, how'd you and Dick find it?" She calls as I pick up a stack of two boxes in one hand and the last one in the other and follow her in, kicking the door shut behind me. Pretty smooth if I say so myself.

"I managed three, actually." I tell her, finding her in the living room, inspecting my photos.

"Well I'm very proud of you. Do you want a cookie as a reward for being such a big boy?" She asks, sarcastically, picking up a photo.

It's of me, Dick and Duncan on Dog Beach. Taken during the summer after junior year, I'm pretty sure Veronica was the photographer. I could probably tell you everything about that day – the surfing, the guy bonding, the way Veronica showed up unexpectedly with food and beer and a camera. We took like three hundred shots, the four of us actually behaving like friends, and this is one of my favourites. Dick likes it too, which is surprising, since he normally rejects anything to do in anyway with Veronica. She's grinning as she looks at the picture, probably remembering that day, too.

"We had fun back then, huh." She states, something like regret flashing across her eyes, before she grins again. "Do I get the tour?"

I nod quickly, there's no point in pressing her about something that I might have imagined. I show her our crappy little kitchen – wooden countertop and stools, no table, gas hob, microwave and broken toaster are really our only useful items in there. She laughs at our lack of kettle, asking how on earth we can be patient enough to heat water on the stove for our morning coffee.

We go along the corridor and I show her Dick's room (covered in posters of surfers and hot women) and our disgusting bathroom. She wrinkles her nose in horror.

"You guys are gross. Seriously horrible." She says, flatly, closing the door on the zit cream, shaving gel, razors and general filth. We finally make it to my room, the last one in the apartment. "Where the magic happens, I imagine?" She asks, wryly.

"Well, I was gonna say this is where I sleep, but we can say it your way." I laugh, showing her in.

My room is pretty awesome, if I say so myself. The kingsize bed and desk are the only pieces of furniture, but there are cushions all over the place, to make movie nights and poker games more comfortable. My more personal photos are in here, along with all of my clothes and any keepsakes and mementos that survived the torching of my house. She spots the photo album she made me for my birthday last year, as well as the crappy mug she painted me when we went to some art café, and smiles slightly. I happen to also have a pair of her panties hidden deep in my own underwear drawer, but if I told her she'd probably think I was a stalker. Shit. I shouldn't have thought of them, now I'm horny again. I turn towards my bed in the hope that she won't notice, but I needn't have bothered, she's found my collection of photos and is engrossed in them.

"When did you take this?" She asks, quietly, holding out possibly my favourite picture of all time. In saying that, I've realised that I probably never fell out of love with Veronica – considering the picture has been my favourite since it was taken, and it's of her and me as a couple. We're messing around in the sea, and she's trying to dunk me, and it's just so very…us. Us last year, anyway, when we thought we were completely trusting and honest. Guess we were wrong though.

"I didn't take it." I tell her. "Wallace did. Didn't he show you? This is just a copy I got made." She looks surprised, and confused as to why Wallace never told her. I've gotta say, I'm curious about that, too. "So…like the place?" I ask, trying to fill in the awkward silence that has descended upon us.

"Well, aside from the fact that it is in everyway a guys' apartment, it's very nice." She tells me, as we make our way back to the living room, where we've both dumped her boxes of 'contraband' all labelled 'Virginia Crap'. "I was a bit surprised when Wallace gave me an 02 address."

"Yeah, well, we felt like roughing it." I joke, and she smiles. God, I love making her smile. Shit. Stay focussed, Echolls, you're in the middle of a conversation. "Plus, the best waves for miles are right outside our back door."

"I can see the appeal of that. I missed the sea when I was in Virginia." She tells me, before gesturing at the boxes. "So, where can I leave this stuff?"

"We've got a closet right down here." I take her to the tiny room where me and Dick have left everything that we don't want to unpack. She notices the box marked 'Logan's Playboys' straight away, and laughs. Weird, I kind of expected her to slap me for being objective to women. "Am I allowed to at least see what kind of forbidden goods you're storing at my place?"

"Feel free to rifle through the boxes at leisure, just don't judge." She tells me, before glancing at her watch. "Shit, I've gotta get to class. See you later, Logan, and thanks!" She calls as she sprints out of the front door and hops into the familiar LeBaron of my teens.

Day 6

I've been resisting the urge to go through Veronica's stuff for two whole days, and I can't take it any longer. The idea of the boxes just sitting tantalisingly in my closet is too much for my curiousity, and so after lunch I take a couple of them out and start going through them.

"Yo, dude, are you, like, going through the Ronster's stuff?" Dick asks me, coming in from the kitchen with a slice of cold pizza in his hand.

"Basically, yeah." I tell him, as I look through some old case files. "She told me I could, and I just couldn't hold it back any more, man."

"I know what you're doing." Dick looks at me knowingly. That's new – I'm meant to be the knowing friend, he's meant to be the dumb one. "You're using your curiousity about Ronnie's life in the past few months as a channel for your pent up sexual frustration."

Wow. I don't think I've ever heard Dick use that many big words. "Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you use so many big words."

"Hidden depths, man. Hidden depths." He tells me, before sitting down and sifting through a different box. "Oh, jackpot, baby."

He hands me a folder marked 'Photos of everyone' and I tear into it, eagerly. It's a bit sad, thinking about it, that I can't bring myself to ask Veronica how Virginia was, that I'm resorting to covertly sneaking through boxes to gain insight into her summer and winter. There's a shitload of snapshots in the folder, of people in FBI headquarters – with badges and ID – of bikers, mechanics, some kids…just loads of people. For six months in that place, Veronica had obviously made a lot of friends. That's weird. I don't associate her with being a social, friendly person. She always made enemies a lot easier than she made friends.

There are names written on the backs of the photos; Gary, Lucia, Mark. I realise that some of the FBI people are present in less noticeable situations too, like with the bikers. I'm rifling through aimlessly when I come across a picture I really don't want to see. Veronica kissing some guy. It's like all my worst nightmares are coming true. Sure, I assumed that Veronica was over me (even though I'm not, nor was I ever really over her) and I guessed that maybe she might meet a guy she liked, but I didn't realise that she would do it so soon, and while I wasn't there to look after her. I mean, what if that guy had been some kind of serial killer, or even just a jerk? Who am I kidding? Veronica likes jerks – I'm living proof of that. I guess I just didn't want to admit that she may have moved on, and this picture makes it look like she was thoroughly enjoying moving on.

Maybe that's why she said I could take a look at the boxes! What if she wanted to drum in the message that she is totally over me. Oh God, what if she realised that I'm still not over her? Shit. Shit. Fuck.

"Dude, are you okay?" Dick asks, breaking me from my reverie.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." I manage to choke out, not wanting my surprisingly perceptive buddy to start analysing me again. "I think I'm gonna make some coffee, want any?"

"Nah, I'm cool. I can't believe Ronnie just has random photos of her making out with dudes! That is totally hot." He calls, as I hurry away into the kitchen. "I have a new found resect for her."

"Dude, can you just drop this?" I yell, "I think I'm just gonna put away those boxes."

"Can't handle seeing the Ronster with another guy? I thought you'd got over that particular pet peeve when she dated the Piz guy." Dick asks, coming into the kitchen and sitting on our countertop.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it." I admit. This is slightly weird, I'm not used to having real conversations with Dick – not ones that don't revolve around sluts and Nintendo anyway. The last time we had a deep conversation was after I saved him from himself when Cassidy Casablancas killed himself. I shiver slightly. I've never really got over that night, and I'd bet any kind of money that neither has Veronica. "But I really don't want to keep going throughh those boxes. I feel like I'm violating her privacy."

"Even though she said you could?" Dick looks at me knowingly. I have absolutely nothing to say to that. "Whatever, dude." He mutters, picking up his mug of coffee and returning to the living room to clear up and turn on the Nintendo.

I see her later that day when I go back to campus for a class. She smiles from across the quad, and waves at me. But my mind is still on the guy she was with in Virginia and I can't bring myself to wave back. I see her looking slightly hurt as she turns back to the conversation she is having with a guy who I vaguely recognise. I don't know why this is bothering me so much! We were broken up. Broken up for a while too, and we still are. Its not my business who she does or doesn't date. But for some reason this is really getting to me. I guess this is how she felt after that whole Madison fiasco.

On the bright side, I haven't thought of sex for nearly a whole day.


	3. days 13 and 14

**A/N: Right then. As a couple of you who read my Gilmore Girls fic may have realised, I'm trying to get back into writing these stories again. I've had like no time, and no computer (my laptop broke twice, and I'm now on my mum's computer, which isn't available often enough, or privately enough, for me to write properly) and it's kind of ironic that I'm finding the time during exam week. I can't promise that updates will come regularly, but I'm trying super hard! I hope you enjoy my attempts, and that they ring true with the other chapters. Enjoy...**

_**Day 13**_

What do you do when your incredibly sexy ex moves back into town and starts turning you on all over the place while you're trying to complete a vow of celibacy? You definitely don't ask her out. I. Am. An. Idiot. What kind of freak decides to go on a date with the one person who will cause them to break their vow? I mean really, what is wrong with me? We were just having a perfectly normal conversation, talking about that damned Lit class, when it just popped out.

"Hey, Ronnie, what do you think about going out for Chinese tonight?"

And she just looked at me, with those big blue eyes and asked me what kind of situation I was suggesting. Right there, I could have said something like 'oh, me and Steve were thinking of grabbing a bite, and I thought maybe you'd wanna join us' and all I'd have had to do would be beg Steve to come out for Chinese. That wouldn't have been a problem, considering he too has the hots for Veronica, and my problem would have been solved. But no. Logan fucking Echolls is a masochist. He likes to cause himself pain and so asks his gorgeous ex out on a REAL DATE. Logan Echolls probably ought to stop thinking in the third person, though.

Crap, crap, CRAP! What am I going to do? I can't go on this date, but I can't not go on it! I'm a wreck, a mess when Ronnie's around, but she still seems to like me. We've run into each other a couple times at the laundrette, and it's been all easy and friendly and me making her laugh, just cos I love seeing her smile. I didn't think she would ever in a million years consider going out with me again, considering what a train wreck we've been each time. But I'm glad she wants to. It's just not the right time. Right now I need some me time, to rebuild my confidence and my life. Maybe I should just tell her that. She'd believe it, right?

But I can't. I have to go on this date, it's all I've been thinking about since she got back; a nice dinner, reconnecting on every level, hell I'd even break the vow for her. No I wouldn't. Yes I would. I'm so confused! Not that I have a choice. I'm all dolled up, ready for my big date – man I sound like Carrie from Sex and the City, how lame is that?

*

"Yo, Echolls, I was starting to think you'd stood me up." Veronica remarks, opening the door of her and Keith's apartment. I grin, not mentioning that I had seriously considered it.

"Ready to go? That new Chinese place isn't gonna stay empty for long." I say, grinning that idiotic grin that I can always feel on my face when I'm around Veronica and we aren't fighting.

"No reservation? Well, that sure makes me feel like a cheap date." Veronica smirks. God she's sexy; tonight is gonna be fucking hard. Or not, as the case may be. "Uuh, are you okay, Logan? You seem a little out of it? What's up?"

Nothing, I hope. "Don't worry about it; I just thought for a second that I forgot to turn the gas off." I improvise.

"Does your apartment even have gas?" We get into my car and drive off, as she laughs at her own joke. "Come on, that was funny!"

"I don't appreciate you insulting the bachelor pad." I say, with mock affront. "It happens to be perfect."

"Yeah, it just doesn't have hot water or a bathroom." She remarks, sceptically.

"Not all of us want to live with daddy forever." I snark.

"Well, not all of us have the option anymore." She says, softly. Wow. She cares enough to quit the snarking. That's seriously unexpected, and amazing.

"Don't worry about it, Ronnie, I'm over it." I laugh. She looks at me sceptically. "Okay, so not over it, but feeling better about it. I can make jokes now, which is something."

"Well that's really great to hear. " She smiles to herself and settles back in the car. The drive to the restaurant is companionably silent. I always think that you're truly comfortable with someone when you don't feel the need to fill every silence. But then, I guess you need to be comfortable with someone to have a heart to heart about your murdering murdered father, too.

When we walk into the restaurant I steel myself to put my hand on the small of her back. It's a pretty innocent touch, but I can feel electricity in my arm. This is so not good.

"Wow, this place is amazing!" She exclaims, as we are shown to our seats. "Even better than I thought it would look."

"I still don't get how you heard of this place." I admit. "This is the first one they've opened in the US."

"A friend told me about their branch in Sydney." She tells me, grinning. "A mutual friend."

"Ronnie, I hate to break it to you, but we don't have any friends in Sydney." Has she gone nuts? Sydney, Australia? I've never been there, and as far as I know neither has she, so how can we have a mutual friend down under?

"Shit, I keep forgetting you don't know." She looks troubled. I don't know what? "I was gonna tell you before I left for the FBI, figured I'd been keeping it to myself for too long, but then there was the fight in the cafeteria, and you just sort of vanished, kept avoiding me, so I figured I'd tell you when I got back."

She's rambling. "You're rambling, Mars."

"Sorry, right, better focus." She shakes her head, like she's clearing it, and then looks me right in the eyes. "Duncan and his daughter are in Australia."

_**Day 14**_

Well, at least I haven't needed anything to distract me from sex since last night. The date was effectively over when she told me that. I didn't believe her, so she told me the entire story, right there in the middle of this hip Chinese restaurant, over Peking duck wraps and sweet and sour chicken. How she helped him escape, how he contacted her once he was settled in Australia, how they exchange emails, pictures and the occasional phone call. All without my knowledge. While we were together, while we were just friends, while we were total enemies, Duncan has been in contact with Veronica and I had no idea.

I can't decide whether I'm mad or not. She kept saying, 'I know you're mad, but please just listen' but actually listening was all I was doing. I didn't yell, I didn't smash any plates or punch something, I didn't get all red in the face as far as I can tell. But I'm obviously meant to be mad, so why aren't I? Or am I and I just hadn't really noticed yet? Maybe this is the quiet anger that sneaks up on you...

His daughter...she's called Lilly, of course. Like I couldn't see that one coming; sometimes I think Duncan is the most predictable person I know, but then again, he did kidnap his own daughter and run away to Australia after putting into place an incredibly elaborate escape plan. Although the plan and idea of running away was probably all Veronica.

Anyway, I've just been lying on my bed since I got back from our 'date' last night, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Do I demand an explanation of why she didn't tell me? Do I fly out and see Duncan, and meet his little girl? Admittedly, that sounds good, because I can definitely keep my mind off sex if I'm isolated somewhere with my old best friend and his toddler, but still. This is so fucked up its unbelievable.

I'm interrupted from my scattered musings by my phone ringing...again. For someone who claims to be doing too many classes and balancing her job, whilst looking for an apartment for her, Mac and Wallace to move into together, Veronica sure has a lot of time to call me. This is at least the tenth time she's rung.

"You should be flattered, dude. She's the girl you want, and she's all over you now after one date!" Dick yells, bursting into my room at the sound of the phone. I haven't told him about what happened yesterday, not that I don't want to. It would be weird and wrong though.

I groan and chuck the phone across the room. "I'm not in the mood to talk to Ronnie right now."

"You're not in the mood? Come on, man, you've been in the mood to talk to her ever since she got back, and now that she's into you again you get bored?" He pauses, and then holds his hand up for a high five. "Player!"

"I'm not a player, Dick; I just need some time to think." I mumble into my pillow.

"Well, the best place to think is at sea. Why not come out for a surf with me, huh?" Dick asks, going back to the doorway. It's times like this that I wish people could see Dick, understand how good a friend he really is.

"Holy shit, I just thought the girliest sentence in history." I exclaim, jumping up quickly. "I'm so on for surfing, man. Anything manly!"

He laughs, and I dig out my wetsuit. I haven't been out on the waves for a while, and I can't think why. We head outside to Dog Beach, the best waves in Neptune, with our boards, and start surfing like there's no tomorrow. I love the rush, it really makes me come alive again. And it's actually making me think clearly about this whole Duncan thing. It's not a crisis, I've decided.

But of course, just when I achieve peace of mind, and settle down to the task of forgetting everything through the manliest, least sex-related sport I know, who comes running down the beach in pursuit of a very large, familiar pit-bull? Veronica Mars and it's like hitting a self destruct button.

I tumble off my board into the cold sea as a wave knocks into me, and Dick laughs and yells like he always does when I scratch. But she's noticed, and as I surface for the second time, I can see her purposefully striding towards the ocean, discarding bits of clothing as she goes.

This would be my fantasy if I wasn't actually trying to forget about what she looks like under her clothes. She wades into the water wearing only the black bikini she had concealed under her uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, and swims towards me.

"Hey, Ronster, what's up?" Dick asks, as he paddles towards a big wave.

"What are you doing here, Veronica?" I ask, wearily. I don't know if I can deal with all this right now.

"I'm here because we need to talk about last night." I shake my head and begin to climb back onto my board. That is not a conversation I want to have today, and not one I want to have whilst treading water. "Come on, Logan, I haven't ruined a brand new set of underwear just for you to shake your head and blow me off." She shivers slightly, and I can't help but snap my head back to examine the underwear that I've never encountered before. "So talk."


	4. days 14 and 17

**A/N: Here's another chapter, all part of my efforts to keep everything going. Thanks for all your reviews, they're really nice! A lot of you have said that I write Logan sort of sensitive and funny, so I'm glad that you like it, because some people must think that he seems a bit out of character. Anyway, enjoy. **

_**Day 14**_

"Can we at least talk on dry land?" I ask. I can't believe I'm caving, but when she does that whole serious, firm thing I just can't help but obey her.

"Do you have a towel I can use?" She asks, looking down at her submerged body.

"No, but you can come back to the house and dry off there." I tell her. She glares at me.

"So I'm supposed to just walk across the beach in my underwear?"

"Just pretend it's a bikini, Mars, and you'll be fine. No one will even notice that you're wearing stuff that shouldn't get wet." I tell her, as I start paddling towards the shore on my board. She swims after me silently.

As we walk back into the kitchen and I had her a towel, my mind is in a mess. After avoiding looking at her in only her bra and panties, I've now got the image of her in nothing at all in my mind. Don't ask me how it got there, I haven't got a clue, but it's there.

"Right, now we need to talk about this." She's perched on the kitchen counter, towel firmly around her body, her mascara running. "I get that I dropped a bit of a bomb on you last night, Logan, but you said practically nothing about the situation."

"I just don't really know how I'm supposed to react to it all." I admit, pulling up one of the bar stools and facing her. She's being honest with me (a new development in our interactions, may I add) so I may as well be honest with her. "I mean, should I be mad? And if I'm mad should it be because you didn't tell me or because you were in contact with your ex whilst we were together? Or should I be happy? And if I'm happy should it be because I have the chance to mend a fence with Duncan or because you're happy or what?"

"I kind of expected you to be mad because I didn't tell you." She admits, quietly. "You and Duncan were best friends for years before I came between you, and then I didn't tell you? That was bitchy of me, and I'm really sorry."

"You're forgiven. You're not the sharing secrets type, Ronnie, so I'm not really surprised that you found it hard to tell me." I inform her, clinically. "I guess I'm mad that Duncan didn't get in contact with me, though."

"I thought that was weird too." She responds, meeting my eyes honestly. "For a while I thought he was contacting you too, but you thought it would be too risky to say anything about it, or you thought that he wasn't in contact with me, or something. But then I asked him last spring and he said that he wasn't and hadn't ever been. So that was when I decided to tell you."

"Sounds like you did everything you could, Veronica. I don't blame you for any of this." I tell her, sincerely. It's obviously eating her up that she didn't tell me sooner. "I just don't really know what I'm gonna do now."

"You could get in contact with him through me." She suggests. "Or take a trip to see him and Lilly. I mean, spring break is coming up soon."

"You think I should take a trip to Australia in two weeks, and just spring the fact that I know on him?" I ask, incredulously. Veronica has never really been a great one for spontaneity – that was always my role in the relationship – but here she is convincing me to suddenly go to Australia. "That's nuts."

"Why? Because he might get mad? I think people should shout more, it helps get rid of the demons and bad feelings."

"And you sure know all about keeping demons pent up." I mutter. She frowns.

"I wanted to do that, too." She remarks, staring into the mug of coffee I've just handed to her.

"Do what?" I ask. We're having a civil conversation, but I'm feeling worn out and weary and just plain run down by trying not to feel angry, or lustful.

"Get all our shit out in the open. Have a massive screaming match or something, and just put everything behind us." She tells me, softly. "The FBI made me realise that in some cases, secrets can tear you apart, instead of making you feel good or special."

"I've always been willing to put everything behind us, Veronica, it's you that's never been able to." I inform her, coldly. I have no idea what's up with my emotions today. I'm just going up and down, and up and down. What the fuck.

"I know it's my fault, Logan." That surprises me. Veronica never admits things are her fault, she almost always finds a way to blame me. "We have a week and a half until spring break, and I really think you should go out and see Duncan. Maybe we could go together – I've been wanting to see what Lilly looks like now she's bigger." Is she making plans for us to go on holiday together? "I know it's weird, and I know it's awkward, but maybe the trip will do us good, who knows? I was also kind of thinking that we could get together before the trip and sort of have it all out. Or we could do that with Duncan, I know I've got some shit I want to say to him."

She finishes, and there is a slightly longer than comfortable silence.

"Sure. That's actually a good idea." I concede. Seeing Duncan will be interesting, but I've never been to Australia, and it'll certainly take my mind off the whole celibacy vow. She grins at me, and jumps off the counter.

"That's great. Now we just have to do the whole thing without raising suspicion." She says, as she pulls of her clothes and skips out of the door. "See you later."

Without raising suspicion, a supposedly 'epic' pair of twenty year olds who are broken up have to get to Australia to visit some kind of mutual friend, who definitely isn't a fugitive. That's never going to happen.

_**Day 17**_

The promised bitch session with Ronnie has yet to happen. In fact I haven't seen her in several days, unless you count passing her on the way into the laundrette, or seeing her chatting to Wallace and Mac in Lit. But those encounters don't really count, because we didn't talk, we hardly even met each other's eyes. I'm not sure what's changed, but something has. The dynamic between us is different. More like it was just after our first kiss outside the Camelot. We're each waiting for the other to make the first move. I feel like I should do it – I'm the guy after all – but what the hell kind of move can I make if I've made myself vow not to make any moves?

"Hey man." Wallace sits down next to me in the canteen. "You seen V around anywhere? She was supposed to meet me for lunch today, but she's been seriously wrapped up in all these cases she's got on at the moment."

"I didn't realise she was doing anything PI-y again." I admit. "But now I say that, I feel really stupid; of course she's doing that stuff, it's her life."

"Damn right it is. I think all that detecting shit is even more important to her than you are." Wallace comments, biting into his burger.

I'm important to her? I never thought I'd hear anyone say that, let alone Wallace, who hasn't been the biggest supporter of any of our relationships, even now that he's friends with us both. I didn't think Veronica would ever admit something like that to anyone, anyway. But I'm important to her? And it's common knowledge? Wow. I think I need to talk to her soon, moves be damned.

Just as I'm realising this, a familiar blonde bombshell hurries into the cafeteria and buys some food. "Hey BFF, sorry I'm late." Veronica gasps. "I had to get this bug in place, and it was fucking impossible! Oh, hey Logan." She adds, finally noticing me.

"You sure know how to give a guy an inferiority complex, Mars; you avoid me for three days and barely notice me when you sit down, that hurts." I jest.

"Don't worry, Logan, it'll do you good to have your ego deflated a little." She snarks, digging into her own burger. "I booked a couple of tickets, by the way, for next Saturday." She tells me through a mouthful of food.

"Tickets for what?" Wallace asks, suspiciously.

"Ronnie and I are going on a bit of a trip." I inform him, casually. I don't know how much Wallace knows, but I'm guessing not much, and if that's the case then we don't want to compromise Duncan and little Lilly. "Just a spring break thing."

"I don't think I like the idea of you two going away together. What if you kill each other?" He asks, frowning.

"We won't kill each other, Wally, I promise." I tell him. Veronica nods, holding up her fingers in the 'scouts honour' position. "That doesn't work for you, V; you got kicked out of the scouts, remember?"

"Shit, I always forget that when I want to use it to my advantage." She clicks her fingers in false disappointment. "Guess you'll have to just rely on our discretion, Fennel."

"Yeah, like you two ever have any discretion when you're around each other." He's totally right. Somehow morals and politeness always fly out the window when Ronnie and I are in the same room for too long.

"We're being discreet now, aren't we? Has anybody been killed yet?" She flashes the head tilt, and Wallace sighs – a sign that he's not going to fight us on this one.

We are indeed being discreet now. I just wonder how long it'll last.


	5. Day 20

**A/N: Oh my god! I am so so so sorry that I haven't been writing! It's totally my fault. But basically, when my laptop got fixed it lost everything, all my stories, and it didn't even have microsoft word when I got it back. I've written this on notepad, so there's probably tons of mistakes and stuff, for which i apologise. but i'm more sorry for letting down my regular readers with such a long gap. I hope you'll accept this offering and forgive me. Hope you like the latest installment, anyway!**

_**Day 20 **_

Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck shit. Suspended above the Atlantic Ocean, in what is effectively a metal box with wings, and I'm freaking out. I guess now would be a good time to admit that I'm terrified of flying. I'm not sure if Ronnie has noticed yet. Then again, she's been studiously avoiding even talking to me since I picked her up this morning, so I could have grown a second nose and she probably wouldn't notice. I wonder what's up with her...

There's always something with Veronica, to be honest. Something that I've done wrong, or she's done wrong, or whoever we're currently dating has done wrong, so I'm kind of used to the silent treatment. The only problem is that right now, being blanked means I have no one and nothing to distract me from being scared. There's not even a hottie in a nearby seat who can make me go crazy with lust and lack of oxygen to the brain. Guess all the slutty girls fly economy nowadays.

Ah! Finally I think of something to distract me; Duncan. The very boy, or should I say man, who I'm braving death (and Ronnie ignoring me) to visit. And he doesn't even know we're coming. What if we get to his house and we get shot because we're trespassing and the Australians are more strict about these things? What if we walk in on him going at it with some Aussie chick? Or, worst of all, what if he's adding another item to the shrine to Veronica that he keeps in his garden shed and we interrupt him? God, this trip is going to be so awkward! More awkward than it is already. Shit. We shouldn't have come here, I shouldn't have let Ronnie talk me into this.

Speaking of which, maybe I should be getting her to talk...

"Soo...Which movie are you planning on watching?" I ask. Great, Logan; fantastic ice-breaker. She just glares at me and turns away. "Look, Veronica, do you think you could at least enlighten me as to what I've done to merit such effective cold-shouldering?"

She turns back, angrily. "Maybe you should check your website. Or one of the numerous flyers advertising the site, that can be found all over campus." She snaps.

Okay, what the hell is she talking about? Website? Does she mean my Facebook or something? What could I have possibly posted there to get her so pissed? And flyers? I don't have any flyers.

I whip out my phone and turn on the flight enabled internet. I check my Facebook page for anything she wouldn't like. It's surprisingly innocuous at the moment. LOGAN ECHOLLS IS 'PHSYCHED FOR SPRING BREAK!' It's like my least controversial status ever, and even my recent wall posts and photos are tame. I've been way calmer since I started on this whole Lent, celibacy thing.

"Uuh, could you give me a hint what we're talking about, Ronnie? Cos I haven't got a clue what's going on." I confess tentatively.

She turns back to me and whips out a piece of coloured paper from her bag, brandishing it furiously. I take it, afraid of what it'll be.

It's a flyer. In bold letters it proclaims 'THE VOW' and has a picture of me on it, with a chastity belt photoshopped on. Underneath it gives details of a website to visit, which I quickly type into my phone.

Oh no. Oh my God. This can't be happening.

The website is a betting pool. A bet about how long I'm gonna last. Obviously set up by Dick, or maybe Steve, it's had over five million hits already, and the stakes are seriously high. I'm annoyed at how few people think that I'm gonna last the entire 40 days, and it gets worse when I see a link titled 'contributing factors'. Clicking on it I see that the person who set up this website - definitely Dick - has been informing the gamblers of the things that might make me last a longer or a shorter time, most notably, the reappearance of Veronica in my life. Shit. No wonder she was mad; this is practically an invasion of her privacy, let alone the definite invasion of my own.

"Veronica I had no idea that this was going on." I start, weakly. Seriously, what are you supposed to say in response to all this?

"I find that quite hard to believe. I'm surprised Dick isn't giving you a cut of the action." She growls.

"This is a huge invasion of my privacy, Ronnie, why do you think I'd be endorsing it?" I ask, getting slightly pissed off at her accusations.

"So you're actually doing this whole vow thing?" She asks, surprised.

"Yeah."

"Tell me, Logan, is it some elaborate way of fulfilling a bet about not sleeping with me or something?" She bites.

"Veronica Mars, this had nothing to do with you." I say, more calmly than I'm feeling. What? Does she not think I've changed at all? "I was fed up with being screwed over by girls, and by getting dumped so much, so I thought I'd change my luck around. I'd already started the vow of celibacy when you came back; I'm doing it for Lent."

"Oh." She knows she's been beaten. Knows she's been out-logic-ed. "I'm sorry."

I accept the apology, the tone of her voice showing me that it's an authentic one, and she really means it. Arguing with her sucks, but at least it's distracted me from my fear of flying.

*

She notices my discomfort when we're landing, and grabs my hand comfortingly. At the risk of sounding like a girl, I can safely say that there are definite sparks going up my arm for the whole time our hands are enjoined, but at least it distracts me while the plane lands.

There's no one waiting for us at the airport, of course, but Veronica seems to know where we need to go, and we quickly pick up our bags and find a taxi.

"Can you take us to King Street, please?" She requests. The cabbie is a red faced native and the pair of them have a long chat while I recover from the journey. I zone in again to hear Veronica saying "Aren't we, Logan?"

Huh. I wonder what she's talking about. I look blank and she fills me in. "We're visiting an old school friend."

"Oh, yeah, we are. Haven't seen him in a while so we thought spring break would be a good time to visit." I confirm her statement.

The cabbie grins at us in his rear view mirror. "And are you two lovebirds gonna see all the sights. You know the bridge is very romantic at sunset."

Veronica blushes, and I shift awkwardly, but noticeably, neither of us denies that we're 'lovebirds'. This is progress. Even a few days ago, Veronica would have denied it outright, without a second thought for my feelings, so I'm feeling optimistic about her feelings for me. We pull up outside a nondescript terraced house that appears to be Duncan's. There's a blue hatchback parked out front, and some of the windows are decorated with bits of paper and patterns that were obviously crafted by little Lilly.

We get out, and I haul out the suitcases. Okay, Logan; deep breaths in and out. You can do this. It's just your old best friend, who left without a word and you haven't seen since. No big deal.

"Are you okay?" Veronica asks me.

"Yeah, sure, I'm cool." I say, almost truthfully. She's looking a bit nervous too. "How're you doing?"

"What if he's really pissed that we came?" She asks, worriedly.

"Ronnie, its Duncan. Even if he's pissed that I'm here, he'll never be annoyed to see you. You're the love of his life, remember."

"God, I hope I'm not!" The look on her face makes me laugh, and I set her off too. "If Duncan is still in love with me then we're pretending that I have a boyfriend back home, alright? I don't care if you say it's Piz, as long as you play along." She orders me.

"That's cool with me; the Veronica/Duncan dance isn't one that I enjoy watching." I admit.

We walk towards the doorway together. How's he gonna react? What's he gonna be like? What's Lilly gonna be like? Veronica, braver than me, rings the doorbell. We both step back and wait, each inwardly giving ourselves pep talks. I can hear footsteps, and suddenly he's opening the door.

"Holy crap! What are you guys doing here?"


	6. Days 20 and 21

**A/N: Here is the latest installment, and I think we can all agree that it's come out a lot quicker than the last ones. Hope you enjoy it and think it's still worth reading! **

Duncan has changed considerably since I last saw him. For one thing, there is an intelligence in his eyes that I've never seen before. Now, for the record, I'm not saying that Duncan isn't, and wasn't, intelligent. He always has been; if he'd stayed till graduation he would have been valedictorian, top of the class. But he'd never been intelligent about the world, whereas now he obviously was. His hair had bleached lighter, too, an effect of living in a place that got even more sunlight than California, and he was also more tanned.

One familiar thing about him, of course, is the love-sick look he is directing at Veronica, as we stand silently on his doorstep.

"We, uh, we came to visit." Veronica says, hesitantly. She's obviously noticed the look, too, and isn't quite sure how to react to it without blowing our chances at a reunion. "It's just, we're both trying to expel some demons from our past, and I thought, why not visit Lilly and Duncan at the same time? So we came over for spring break. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Okay? It's more than okay! This is great, I didn't think I'd ever see you guys again." Duncan pulls Ronnie into a hug, before turning to me and giving me a hug too. "It's been too long, man."

"Two years. That's like a fucking age." I agree, picking up my and Ronnie's bags and following him into the house. "Woah."

DK's house is like a fucking palace on the inside. The exterior is just some nondescript suburban haven, but get past the front door and it's a whole different story. A massive widescreen TV adorns a wall in the living room, in which there is a snooker table, air hockey, and table football. The kitchen, what I can see of it anyway, is all shiny and chrome-y. Everything is very new and modern. Compared to my little ramshackle house, this place is like the White House.

"Snazzy place, Duncan." Veronica echoes my thoughts. He grins proudly, and begins talking about all the things he bought to make it cooler, and more in keeping with his personality. Duncan appears to have finally inherited the gift of the gab from Lilly, while he's been gone, and he talks for ages.

I glance at Veronica, and see that she is trying to hold back the same laughter that I am, and I'm pretty sure we share a moment as we internally mock our old friend. She winks at me as we move into the kitchen and Duncan begins a rapture about the stainless steel counter tops. They're very expensive, apparently. Finally he pulls himself together enough to show us to the spare room.

"There's only one room, with a fold-out bed, so I guess you can share or..." He trails off, seemingly unhappy with the prospect of letting his darling Veronica sleep in the same bed as me. I grimace at the idea of having to hide my frustrated attraction to Veronica all night, but I'm sure as hell not gonna let her sleep with Duncan. "I can see that you might feel awkward about sharing with Logan, V, so maybe you want to share with me instead?"

Veronica grimaces too, almost unnoticably, and I take mercy on her. God, I'm such a giver - always thinking of the gorgeous girl I'm in love with before myself. How do I do it?

"I don't know why it would be awkward at all, Duncan. After all, Ronnie and I sleep in the same bed on a regular basis." I wrap an arm around her small waist and smirk suggestively. Ronnie doesn't even seem shocked, just wraps her arm around my back and smiles up at me. I can see a flash of gratefulness in her eyes, but to her credit she doesn't let Duncan even start to doubt that we're a couple again.

"Logan's even learnt not to hog the duvet this time round." She says, sweetly. Duncan looks almost physically repulsed by our tame display of affection. My grin gets wider. Being close to Ronnie, annoying Duncan, getting things out in the open; this spring break is gonna be awesome!

Day 21

Ronnie and I retired to the spare room early last night, both being severely jetlagged, and decided to skip the whole 'thanks so much for saving me from sleeping in the same bed as my besotted ex, Logan, you're my hero' spiel, and just sleep as much as possible.

I wake up in the morning to find the other side of the bed empty, save for a note simply bearing the message 'Thanks'. Ah, Ronnie, always the sweet-talker. She knows just what to say to get me going.

Actually. Everything fucking gets me going at the moment, even Ronnie's brief message. Damn this vow, it's made me hornier than a rhinoceros. Shaking that disturbing thought from my mind I quickly get dressed and saunter downstairs. Ronnie is sitting at the chrome counter, nibbling at a piece of toast and reading the Australia Times, while Duncan spoon feeds porridge to baby Lilly.

They make quite the domestic couple.

I wander over to the cafetiere and pour myself a mug, as well as another one for Ronnie. I fix them up - Black with sugar for me, and black with just a drop of milk for Ronnie - before sitting down beside the others.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I ask, passing Ronnie her mug.

"I was thinking of showing you guys all the generic sights of Sydney, and grabbing some lunch." Duncan says, picking up Lilly's now empty bowl and placing it in the sink. "Then, Lilly's being babysat tonight, so maybe we could go to a club?"

"When was the last time you went clubbing here, Duncan?" Veronica asks, sceptically. "That's not really your scene."

"Oh, and it's really yours?" He challenges.

"Logan and I go clubbing occasionally, actually." She defends, reasonably truthfully. "I've definitely been clubbing more often than you."

"Maybe thats because I don't tend to go for the whole fake ID thing." Duncan shoots back. Feisty. Ish.

"Look, we're kind of going off topic here." I interject, not in the mood for being the referee to Duncan and Ronnie's battle of wits, if you can even call it that. "Are we going clubbing or not?"

"I vote yes." Duncan states.

"I second that." Ronnie adds.

"Fine," I sigh, "Then I guess its unanimous." Why were they fighting anyway? I can only assume that Ronnie is trying to keep Duncan feeling like they're more siblings than former lovers, so that he won't stay all in love with her. I can only hope its working. "So are we gonna head off?"

*

Sightseeing was actually kind of fun. We'd skipped out the Bridge, choosing to go back at sunset on another day, and possibly sunrise on yet another, but done all the other tourist places; the opera house, the zoo, the parks, and Ronnie had made us walk through the main shopping streets so that she could 'make a plan of action' for the one day we'd allowed her for shopping.

We'd headed home after an indulgent lunch in one of Sydney's nicest restaurant and spent a nice afternoon by the pool with Lilly. Now we were all getting ready for the club. Ronnie had commandeered the bathroom over an hour ago, and I feel the need to kick her out so that I can go through my own beauty routine.

"Ronnie! Get out here now!" I yell, banging on the door. She opens it suddenly, and I stumble into her.

"Geez, Logan, if you wanted me out sooner you just had to ask," She grumbles. As I regain my balance and stop leaning on her, I notice that she's dressed only in a towel. Okay, man, unsexy thoughts. Umm...Lilly spitting up on me, Trina, Keith Mars' shotgun. Ah, that seems to work. "You can shower now, I need to pick out something to wear."

I shower and calm down, trying not to think of Veronica getting changed in the next room. I slap on some cologne and ruffle my wet hair, before wandering into the bedroom in my boxers.

I don't notice Ronnie straight away, and head to the dresser to find my dress pants and my green shirt. I pull on the pants, and turn around to see Ronnie standing by the mirror, staring at me. Her pupils are slightly dilated, and I recognise the look on her face. It's her 'turned on' look. Ah, this is a position I've never been in before. Turning Ronnie on and not being able to do anything about it. Maybe I should take advantage of having the upper hand, and turn her on a bit more.

"Does this shirt make my eyes pop enough?" I ask, sarcastically. She nods slightly. She's wearing a Rolling Stones Forty Licks top, pleated micro-skirt, and - oh God help me - grey over the knee socks. She looks fucking amazing, and fuckable, and the look in her eyes just makes her even more sexy. "You can't go out like that."

She grins, the look disappearing as I pull on and button up my shirt. "Don't you approve, Logan? Isn't this the kind of outfit you always loved me to wear?" She's got a new, mischeivous look in her eyes that doesn't bode well for me.

"Yeah, I liked you to wear stuff like that for me. Not when you're going to a club full of perverts and gropers." I growl. Keep cool, dude, keep your emotions in check. Never let her see that you care, my inner-Dick counsels me.

"What if my plan was to find a nice Aussie dude to have fun with tonight?" She asks, innocently.

"Need I remind you that we're 'dating'?" I ask, forming air quotes with my hands.

"Why can't we have an open relationship?" She quizzes me. "Your jealousy is really getting out of hand."

"My jealousy? You look like a hooker who caters exclusively to men with schoolgirl fetishes." I grumble. She frowns and slaps my arm, before bending over to carry on doing her make up. Her skirt is so short that if I bent down a bit I'd be able to see her panties. Don't do it, Logan. Don't make things even harder for yourself. Wow, what an ironic piece of advice. I should get out of my head a bit more.

"Whatever, Logan, I'm going dressed like this and there's nothing you can do about it." She stands up again and grabs my hand. "If I can't go guy hunting tonight then we'd better sell this relationship." She comments, leading me out of the room.

Duncan's eyes neaerly bug out of his face when he sees Ronnie. She pretends not to see his expression, simply smiling at Lilly's babysitter and walking out of the door.

"Which club are we going to then?" She asks, as we follow her out of the house and start walking down the street.

"I, uh, hadn't really thought that far." Duncan admits. "I thought maybe you'd do some research."  
A/N: So here it is; the next installment. It's actually come out quite quickly, compared with my other recent posts, but I hope that the quality hasn't suffered because of it. Anway, enjoy!

Veronica rolls her eyes. "I hate that I'm so predictable to you two." She grumbles, as she fishes her sidekick out of an invisible spot in her outfit and flicks to the notes section. "On Wembley Street, number 89, it's the top two floors of the building and the roof, and apparantly it's the best club in the city. Really exclusive though, so you guys might not get in."

"Why do you think that we won't get in but you will?" I ask, indignantly. I know the answer before she gestures to her outfit and raises an eyebrow at me. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

We hail a cab and reach the club in a few minutes. we enter the building and the queue is so long that it runs down two flights of stairs. Ever confident in her ability to flirt with anyone, Veronica strides to the front of the line, Duncan and I trailing behind her.

"Hi there," She says to the bouncer. "I don't suppose a girl could get into the club?" She bats her eyelashes.

"Well, for a pretty lady like you, I'm sure I could work something out." The sleazebag winks at her, and she positively sparkles. "Right through there, baby."

"Um," She bites her lip provocatively. "Would you mind if my friends came in too?" She asks. He glares at us, and we do our best to look confident and cool. Do our best? What's happening to me? I'm always confident and cool! This celibacy is affecting me more than I thought it was. "If it helps, my boyfriend here is famous."

I smirk. "Ever heard of Logan Echolls? I've been in several movies." I remark.

He thinks for a second, screwing his idiotic face up. "Actually, I think I have heard of you. My sister likes you." Yes! An in! "I'll let you guys in if you give me an autograph for her."

I whip out a pen and quickly sign the back of one of the guest lists, before Ronnie drags me and Duncan into the club. The pounding music and darkness are like old friends. I haven't been to a club since I broke up with Parker. I actually really like clubs, the dancing, the oxymoron of public intimacy. I grin, and pull Ronnie out onto the dancefloor. This might actually be a good night.


End file.
